Indigenous Boats

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

In the prior post we examined the watercraft of the Madan or Marsh Arabs. Now we'll look at how the Madan used those boats -- particularly the plank-built ones. As in the last post, all the photos and essentially all the content are fromThe Marsh Arabsby Wilfred Thesiger.

Almost all of the economic activities of the Madan depended upon their boats. The most important were raising buffaloes, fishing,
wildfowling, reed cutting, mat-making, and smuggling. Others included raising
sheep and goats and growing wheat, barley, and rice. Some entire communities
specialized in boat building.

Huge stacks of rolled mats at the extreme right and left of the image are ready for export downstream. (Click any image to magnify.)

Mat-making relied upon the reeds and rushes that were ubiquitous in the marshes. Two passages from The Marsh Arabs are illustrative:

“We passed . . . a large two masted boat loaded high with reed
mats, being laboriously poled toward the Tigris. Later we passed a great raft
made of dry reeds. Forty feet long and ten feet high, it was aground and
temporarily abandoned. When the water-level rose, this stack of reeds would be
floated downstream, perhaps as far as Basra, and there broken up and sold.”

and

“The Nuafil [one of the many tribes Thesiger visited] kept some
buffaloes, but their livelihood depended on the weaving of mats, which they exported
in great numbers. Large sailing boats, like the one we had already seen,
fetched the mats when the water was deep enough.”

Although the Madan, as devout Moslems, do not eat pig, they
frequently mounted hunting expeditions in which several boatloads of men would
go after the wild pig that abounded in the marshes and played havoc with their
crops. Some of the hunting may have been done for the pure sport of it,
however.

Boats congregating in great numbers on market days.

Aside from economic uses, virtually every aspect of life in the
marshes depended upon boats. All visits to other villages, for courting,
weddings, funerals, the prosecution of feuds, visits by itinerant circumcisers,
etc., were made by boat. As few of the reed islands or marsh dwellers had
privies, the call of nature was often answered by hopping into a canoe,
paddling a short way off, and squatting over the side. Drinking water, by the
way, was drawn from the same source.

Even with full load of passengers, there are still several inches of freeboard on this balam. Three men are paddling: one in the bow, and two (on opposite sides) in the stern.

Thesiger described a scene in which a family was moving their
settlement by boat:

“Two boys in a canoe urged on half a dozen buffaloes, following
behind a balam that was paddled by an
elderly man and another boy, who made yodelling cries to encourage the swimming
animals. A woman and three small children, one of them wearing nothing but a
silver collar round his neck, shared the back of the boat with two buffalo
calves, a kitten, and a lot of hens. The front was piled high with their
belongings, including the dismantled framework of their house, reed mats, water
jars, cooking pots, sacks of grain and a pile of quilts. A dog stood on top of
all this between the wooden legs of a churn, and barked at us as we edged
past.”

As a social convention, it was customary for a man in boat to
greet a man on shore first, rather than the reverse, and for boats traveling downstream
to issue the first greeting to those traveling upstream. Perhaps the first of
these traditions arose because a person traveling was more likely to have news
for one at home than vice-versa, or that a stranger passing by one’s home was
viewed as a potential threat, so it behoovedthe boatman to be the first to express good intentions. As to the
second tradition, perhaps those traveling downstream were assumed to be coming from home,
while those traveling upstream were returning from market. News from home might have been valued more highly than news from the city. These are just speculations.

Fishing methods

Fishing, much of it done from boats, was the primary economic
activity of many individuals and tribes in the marshes, and an important
secondary one for others. Some fished on a subsistence basis, while others
caught fish for market. The most common catch seems to have been different
species of barbel, some of which are types of catfish, others being related to
them. Several fishing methods were used, including spearing, netting, and poisoning.
Also noodling – more on that in a bit.

Among those who used nets, differing tribes favored different
types of nets and different associated methods, including the use of
cast nets from shore, setting a net across a flowing channel, wading with a
scoop net, and setting seines either from boats or by wading. Another
shore-based fishing method involved setting up a barrier of reeds in a shallow
area of current to provide fish with a resting place. When fish bumped up
against the reeds, their movement alerted men waiting on the shore with spears

Fish poisoning was done in winter and early spring, before the
water began to rise. Datura, a poison derived from a genus of plants of the
same name, was purchased from local merchants, mixed with flour and chicken
droppings or inserted into freshwater shrimps which were cast upon calm
stretches of water. Fish ate the bait and were stupefied by the datura,
causing them to float to the surface where they could be easily collected. This was a more
productive method of fishing than spearing.

Noodling (a Southern
United States term for catching catfish by hand) was also practiced,
particularly for a large fish called gessan,
which was probably a type of barbel. Gessan
would shelter beneath floating islands of reeds, where they were safe from
spear and net. They were targeted by teams of two men in a canoe. One man
stayed in the boat while the other dove beneath the island with a rope tied
around his leg. The swimmer would grab the fish (probably by the gills, if
Southern practice is an indication) and be pulled back out by the man in the
canoe.

Naturally, there was rivalry between different cultures and
different tribes living in the marshes, and while this was probably based on simple
“tribalism” (in the modern, nonanthropological sense), it manifested itself in
a focus upon each others’ fishing habits. To quote Thesiger again:

“Far out on the lake, Berbera were fishing from boats. We could
hear the beating of tins, and the smack of poles on water as they drove the
fish into their nets. The Madan had a profound contempt for the Berbera and,
except that they would eat with them, despised them hardly less than the
Sabeans who were at the very bottom of the social scale. Yet no tribesman ever
suggested to me that the Berbera were of a different origin. The prejudice was
solely against their occupation. At first sight this appeared to be illogical,
since the Madan themselves caught fish. But the Berbers netted fish to make
money, whereas the Madan speared fish for food.”

This was changing however, and Madan were beginning to sell
both fish and buffalo milk, which they previously had not done, instead keeping
both commodities solely for their own use. Thus, when Thesiger visited, the Madan’s
stated basis for their prejudice was in the process of shifting away from the
occupation itself to the Berberas’ different method of fishing.

Madan fishing with spears, their boats proceeding in line abreast to herd fish before them. One man paddles in the stern in each canoe.

Of all the fishing methods employed by the Madam, the greatest prestige was associated with spearing – at least
among the tribes with which Thesiger spent the most time. “In spring, before
the water rose, the Madan collected in parties of forty or fifty canoes. They
swept up and down a lagoon, in line and some four or five yards apart, while the
spearmen tried to impale the fish as they broke back under the canoes. In
summer they speared fish at night by the light of reed torches.”

During the height of fishing season, hundreds of boats might
work a single lake at once. Merchants would set up buying stations on the
shore, buying boatloads of fish, packing them in ice, and sending them by truck
to Baghdad. (Fish were also salted.) There was fierce competition between groups
employing spearing and netting methods, racing each other to the next favored
spot and intentionally blocking each other’s access. Thesiger even described spearmen
poaching a seine net already full of fish and in the process of being drawn in.
This would seem to be strong evidence of the superiority of net fishing, but
the spear-wielding Madan evidently didn’t see it that way.

Friday, May 4, 2018

The Madan, or Marsh Arabs of Iraq, depended heavily upon their boats, including canoes like this one under construction. Note the heavy, closely-spaced, roughly-formed frames, inner planking at the tops of the frames, and heavy thwarts. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Wilfred Thesiger was an upper-class Englishman, born the son of
a diplomat in Addis Ababa in 1910 and educated in England at the best schools.
After conducting expeditions and serving in the diplomatic service himself in
Africa, he served with distinction in the Second World War then became a wanderer in
Africa, the Middle East, and central Asia, immersing himself in traditional,
tribal cultures and writing about them – and perhaps gathering intelligence on
the side.

In the early and mid 1950s, he spent many months living and
traveling in the marshy lands between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in
southern Iraq. In his book about these travels, The Marsh Arabs, he explains that he found peace of mind living in
undeveloped areas in general, and the less Europeanized and regimented, the
better:

“(H)aving seen Iraqi Kurdistan I had no desire to go back. Travel was
too restricted, rather like stalking in a Highland deer forest . . . .
Admittedly the Marshes, for which I was now bound, covered a smaller area than
Iraqi Kurdistan, but they were a world complete in itself, not a fragment of a
larger world to the rest of which I was denied access.”

Thesiger was no anthropologist – The Marsh Arabs is a mixture of travelogue and memoir – but he was
sensitive to culture and a keen and appreciative observer. Naturally, he saw,
used, and reported on the Marsh Arabs' use of boats. Although every aspect of the lives of
the Arabs who lived in the Iraqi marshes was regulated by their watery
environment, we will concentrate on his observations directly related to their watercraft.

A Madan house, built of reeds and covered with mats, on a kibasha, or artificial island, also made of reeds and rushes. Buffalo were a mainstay for many of the Madan.

For context: The Marsh Arabs, or Madan, are Shia Moslems. (Northern
Iraqis are Sunni.) Dotted with thousands of lakes and lagoons and cut through
with innumerable permanent and seasonal waterways, large parts of the marshes
dry out in summer and inundate after the rains begin further north. Many of the
Madan’s homes and villages are built on tiny man-made islands, although a few
areas of slightly higher elevation allow the construction of more permanent,
conventional structures and small communities. Some of the Madan did not live
in settled villages, but led completely nomadic lives.

A mudhif, or Madan meeting house, where the public business and pleasure of the community was conducted. Thesiger was entertained in many of these, which also served as guest houses. They too were built entirely of reeds.

Although I write about the culture indiscriminately in the past
and present tenses, much of the marsh life Thesiger described is now past, destroyed in part by Sadam Hussein’s campaign against the Madan, which saw the
swamps largely drained and destroyed. Some restoration efforts, however, are succeeding
in bringing back parts of the habitat and with it, the culture.

Boat Types

A balam with a load of reeds.

With communities and individual homes sited on tiny, often
temporary artificial islands, watercraft were used by everyone for every
purpose, and small, plank-built one- and two-man canoes were ubiquitous. Larger
boats were also common. Those used for the large-scale gathering of reeds and other
commercial carriage were called balam,
which were typically 30’ to 36’ long.

A tarada, with its incomparably graceful bow.

Taradas, which were
indistinguishable from balams except
for one detail, could only be owned by sheiks. Thesiger describes one of the
first he saw:

“She was a beautiful craft that could carry as many as twelve
people. Thirty-six feet long but only three and half feet at her widest beam,
she was carvel-built, flat-bottomed and covered outside with a smooth coating
of bitumen over the wooden planks. The front swept forwards and upwards in a
perfect curve to form a long, thin, tapering stem; the stern too rose in a
graceful sweep. Two feet of the stern and of the bows were decked; there was a
thwart a third of the way forward, and a strengthening beam across the boat two
thirds of the way forward. Movable boards covered the floor. The top part of
the ribs was planked along the inside and studded with five rows of flat, round
nail-heads two inches across. These decorative nails were the distinguishing
mark of a tarada . . . .”

In spite of its reed-bundle construction, the zaima was a true boat, with a hull that displaced water by virtue of its water-tight shell, not because of the buoyancy of its materials.

Because the marshes are treeless, wood is expensive and even a
small plank-built boat was beyond the means of some. Giant qasab reeds (Phragmites
communis), however, were ubiquitous, and they were used to build bundle
boats called zaima. Typically 10’
long and 2.5’ in beam, they were coated on the outside with bitumen to
waterproof them and extend their life. Even so, they would last only a year,
because, unlike on plank-built boats, the bitumen coating on a zaima could not
be renewed. Even during Thesiger’s visits, the zaima was falling out of use due to a preference for wooden canoes
among even the poor.

A young child's rudimentary reed raft.

This older child's reed raft is a bundle boat, floating by virtue of the reeds themselves. But with its rising bow, it mimics the form of the plank canoes of his elders.

Thesiger mentions two more boat types in passing. Children
would build rafts of rushes and paddle around on them. And two-masted boats,
apparently much larger than balam,
were used to trade large volumes of goods downstream with Basra.Soon after he had bought himself a balam for 10 pounds sterling to use in traveling about the marshes, Thesiger received from his sheik-patron the extraordinary gift of a top-notch tarada, 36’ long, which he used henceforth. He hired local youth as crew and kept them with him for extended periods. To increase their loyalty, he did not pay them or treat them like employees. He was, in fact, more generous to them than would have been reasonable on a salary basis, but the arrangement allowed them to assert that they accompanied him as a matter of choice, respect, and friendship rather than a financial transaction.

Thesiger's tarada in choppy water.

As the only individual who was not a sheik to own a tarada – and an Englishman to boot –
Thesiger was a notable individual in the marshes. The highly esteemed
boatbuilder who made his tarada also made him paddles uniquely painted red. The
boat and its crew were easily recognized for its distinctive paddles.

Boat Construction

Balams and taradas feature a multiplicity of relatively light, closely-spaced frames and heavy thwarts, with floorboards and end decks. The one in the foreground lacks the inner planking at the tops of the frames that Thesiger described in the quote above and that was also typical of the Madan's canoes.

No suitable wood was available in southern Iraq and every bit –
even for items as small as paddles – had to be brought in from elsewhere. In
boat construction, the preferred material for ribs was mulberry from Kurdistan.
No mention is made of the type of wood used for planking, all of which was
imported “from abroad.” The one key material that was obtained locally was bitumen,
which was gathered from small pools where it naturally “bubbled out of the
ground.” After being allowed to cool it was broken up into chunks for
transport.

A balam being recoated with bitumen.

Boats had to be recoated annually, as the bitumen cracked off.
Cracks could be temporarily sealed by heating the bitumen with a torch of
reeds. But for proper annual maintenance, the entire coating would be removed
with a chisel. Fresh, solid bitumen would be placed on a sheet of metal and
melted over a fire, then spread onto the boat one quarter inch thick.Thesiger
reports that the Madan believed that a coating applied in winter did not last
long as a one applied in summer. This makes sense, as the boat’s planking would
be warmer in summer, helping prevent the pitch from cooling too quickly to adhere properly.

Many of the Madan raised buffalo, and some of them acquired such
a taste for pitch that they would eat it off the boats if allowed. This habit
was apparently restricted to certain communities – perhaps buffalo are just as
regional in their tastes as humans – and where it occurred, boats would be moored
away from the shore rather than pulled up where buffalo could get at them.

With a tool kit limited to an adze, a hand saw and a bow drill, workmanship on most boats was rough.

Nonetheless, Madan boats, especially the larger balams and taradas, were fine and graceful. (The stem appears to be badly cranked to port, however.)

Most carpentry for boat construction and repairs was done with
an adze. Thesiger offers this brief, sadly incomplete description:

“We watched an old man
start on a canoe. He outlined the bottom with transverse slats of wood, an inch
or so apart, and then nailed a single long plank down the centre. While we drank
tea he fashioned the ribs, selecting suitable pieces of wood from a pile beside
him. He used an adze, and his only other tools, a small saw and a bow drill,
lay on the mat beside him with a heap of nails.”

Early stage of canoe building, with the floors and central plank in place.

Of the zaima,
however, he provides a more detailed description:

“First he made half a dozen tight bundles of five or six qasab
reeds rather longer than the length of the proposed boat, and fastened them
securely together side by side to form the keel, leaving eighteen inches free
at both ends, which he bent upwards. He next bent five long reeds into the
shape of a U, passed the middle among the loose ends of the keel, and laced
them back to the keel itself. He repeated the process at either end
alternately, until he had built up the sides and ends of the hull. This
framework he stiffened by tying into it a number of ribs made from two or three
willow wands. Bundles of a few reeds, fastened one below the other along the
inside of the boat, covered the top half of the ribs and formed the inner
planking. Finally, he wedged three stout sticks across the boat as thwarts and
secured their ends in place with lumps of bitumen. The zaima was now ready to be coated outside with bitumen.”

Propulsion and Travel

A canoe being poled from the stern and padded from the bow through vegetation.

Boats were propelled by both pole and paddle as the situation
required. Small fishing canoes would be punted with a fish spear, butt-end
down. The spears were made of reeds, 12 feet long with five-pronged, barbed
heads. Paddles were “shovel-shaped pieces of board nailed to lengths of bamboo”
(actually reeds, not true bamboo). Those poles which were not fish spears were
also simply straight sections of reed. Even such crude paddles were expensive
to replace, and their owners would typically take them from their boats when
they were ashore to protect them. Likewise with poles to which their owners had
become accustomed. This was not to prevent theft, per se. Rather, it was
accepted practice that anyone could take any paddle or pole that wasn’t in its
owner’s immediate possession.

The method of poling balams and taradas was distinctive. In a
boat with four men poling, two were in the bow and two in the stern. They poled
in time, all of the same side of the boat, switching sides together as needed. In
smaller boats with only two poling, the action was also coordinated on the same
side. When carrying a full load of reeds, however, the crew of a balam would
walk the boat along the gunwale rather than stand in place to pole. This would
allow them to apply the full power of their legs to propulsion rather than
relying entirely on their arms and upper bodies.

The solo paddler in the foreground canoe sits high in the stern. The tandem paddlers in the other boat are paddling on opposite sides.

When paddling a balam, two men would sit in the stern on the
deck, one in front of the other. One would sit on the forward thwart, and one
would kneel in the bows.

Passengers always sat in the bottom. The place of honor for a
passenger was nearest the stern, leaning against the rear thwart.

Some passages through the reedbeds were kept open artificially
by driving buffalo through when the water was low. Thereafter, regular boat
traffic would keep them open. Even so, during the dry season many channels
would dry up, requiring much dragging through mud or even preventing passage. Some areas of swamp were dammed to create water
impoundments for grain growing during the dry season. These dams interfered
with free movement of boats through formerly open channels, forcing users to
negotiate narrow, rapid sluices both up- and down-current, or even to be
dragged over the dams. With a loaded, 35-foot-long balam, this was a difficult
chore.

We'll continue with Thesiger's The Marsh Arabs in a future post, looking at how the Madan used their boats.

Quotations and images from The Marsh Arabs, Wilfred Thesiger, Penguin Classics, 2008. Copyright 1959. Originally published by Longmans, Green, 1964. This author thanks the copyright holders. Should they object to this use, he asks that they contact him through the blog comments. Their wishes will be respected.

Monday, March 5, 2018

After Ken Preston saw my previous post about Vietnamese basket boats, which included one of his photos from his website Boats and Rice, he contacted me about another interesting and beautiful Vietnamese boat he was privileged to sail on recently.

This type of sailing fishing boat from northern Vietnam went out of use some decades ago with the proliferation of engines. Ken hesitates to call this boat a "replica," because it was built authentic to tradition in every respect by an 11th-generation boatbuilder who worked on them many years ago (and who continues to do business building more contemporary wooden fishing boats). It simply IS one of the type, albeit separated by many years from the rest. The video shows the boat getting under way and looking quite lovely sailing up- and down-wind. The video was shot by one of Mr. Chan's sons; Ken edited it and added the explanatory text.The (apparently unnamed) boat was built in the boatyard of Mr. Le Duc Chan of Quang Yen, a short distance upstream of Halong Bay. It was commissioned by Dr. Nguyen Viet, an archaeologist with an interest in Vietnam's maritime heritage. Dr. Viet caused the construction of the boat to be scrupulously recorded in still images and video, with the assistance of a naval architect who also documented the boat and its construction for legal purposes.The boat is of a type that would have been owned (and lived on?) by a family and used for commercial fishing. Dr. Viet's version is true to the original, lacking modern accommodations belowdecks. It is 34.6' LOD, 27.3' at the waterline, with a maximum beam of 11.7', a board-up draft of just 18", and a daggerboard-down draft of 5.4'. It is junk-schooner rigged, and according to Ken's lengthy, colorful blog post, it can be easily handled by a crew of two: one at the helm and mainsheet, another at the foresail. Ken describes its sailing behavior as extremely well-mannered, getting under way, answering the helm, coming about, dropping sail, and docking reliably and with a total lack of fuss.Ken's article about the boat will appear in the May issue of WoodenBoat magazine. He also has a book about Vietnamese fishing boats, with some 500 photos plus text, coming out soon from Women's Publishing House of Ho Chi Minh City. An English-language edition will appear this summer, to be followed by a Vietnamese translation. Neither appears on the publisher's website at the time of this writing.